Page 40 of Curses and Casualties
“There’s something else,” Scarlett says suddenly. “My wolf... she’s not acting right. She’s usually so steady, but now she’s pacing, whining. Like she senses something is wrong.”
“Maybe it’s the altitude,” Ethan suggests, but even he doesn’t sound convinced.
“Or maybe we’re just driving toward certain death,” Scarlett returns.
“I know you’re in pain right now, Scar. But rein it in,” Ryan barks.
‘Should we get her a doctor or something?’I ask Ryan through our bond, and he gives me an imperceptible head shake.
‘She’s not sick.’
We pass a weathered sign marking 7,800 feet elevation, then I spot a barely visible break in the tree line, just a gap where the forest seems less dense.
“There.” I point. “That has to be it.”
Ryan turns onto what I generously call a road. It’s more like a deer trail that someone halfheartedly widened, all ruts and exposed roots that make the car buck like an angry horse. Branches scrape the sides with fingernails-on-chalkboard sounds.
About ten minutes in, Scarlett makes a sound I’ve never heard from her. Part gasp, part keen, all pain.
“Stop the car,” she chokes out. “Stop. Please.”
Ryan’s already pulling over before she finishes. She fumbles with the door and practically falls out, stumbling a few feet away before doubling over, hands on her knees.
“Scarlett!” Ethan’s out of the car in a flash, but when he tries to touch her, she flinches away.
“Don’t. Just... give me a second.” Her whole body is trembling now. “It’s getting stronger. The pull. Like something’s reached into my chest and is trying to drag me forward by digging tentacles into my heart.”
I shoot Ryan a look as I place a hand on Scarlett’s back. “What do you need?”
“Just…I need a minute. I just need my wolf to… I need her to calm the fuck down.”
I guide her to a patch of shade beneath a wind-stunted fir, where the earth is soft and mossy. She sits hard, wrapping her arms tight around her knees and staring at the ground like she’s afraid her gaze will set the trees on fire. I crouch beside her, feeling oddly protective, and not just because we’re friends—or even pack. Something in Scarlett’s body language—the wild, barely reined panic—makes me want to wrap myself around her as a buffer to whatever cosmic force has her in its sights.
Ryan comes over, his face set in the careful neutrality of an alpha trying not to spook a cornered animal. He unscrews the cap on a water bottle and crouches opposite me, offering it.
“Drink,” he says, gentle but firm.
Scarlett shakes her head, lips pressed white.
“Scar, honey,” I say, reaching out to take her hand, which is cold and trembling.
“Here. Let me help.” Ryan cups the back of her head to steady her and tilts the water toward her mouth. But the second we’re both touching her—my hand on hers, his on her head—something unexpected happens.
A warmth flows from where we touch her, golden and silver light dancing just beneath our skin. The air shimmers, and I feel our bond pulse with an energy I’ve never experienced before. It flows through us and into Scarlett like a circuit completing.
Her eyes snap wide, pupils blown, and for a moment I think she’s about to shift. But then she lets out a shuddering sob, and all the tension bleeds out of her at once. The trembling stops. Her breathing evens out.
“The hell was that?” She looks between Ryan and me, blinking like she’s just woken up. “I... I actually feel better. A lot better. It’s like after a fever breaks, and you can think straight again. The pull’s still there, but it’s not overwhelming anymore.”
Ryan and I exchange shocked looks. Through our bond, I feel his amazement matching mine.
“Did we just...” I start.
“Heal her?” Ryan finishes, staring at his hands like they belong to someone else.
“I don’t think it was something that can be healed,” Ethan says quietly, and we all turn to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, almost troubled. “But you definitely eased it. Remember what Ragnar said? The ancient soul-bonded pair could perform miracles—healing sickness, calming storms, raising crops.” He gestures to Scarlett. “Maybe you’re starting to tap into those abilities.”
“But we haven’t even completed the bond yet,” I protest.
